


The Greatest of These

by Kitsune_Moonstar



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsune_Moonstar/pseuds/Kitsune_Moonstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three drabbles that take place after the end of Living Doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest of These

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own CSI or its characters. Spoilers for Living Doll.

**The Greatest of These**

**Faith  
**

They would find her.  The team would find her.  Grissom would find her.  Sara knew that.  Yes, she was scared and worried; she was trapped under a car in the middle of nowhere during a downpour.

But they would find her.  Maybe not alive, but there was comfort in knowing that her team would find her.  She knew them.  They wouldn’t let this go.  Even if her case went cold, Sara knew it would go on the board.  It would come down every time a new lead was found, a new perspective discovered.  It would come down every night with no new cases to solve.

So in the cold mud, in the dark of the rain, Sara held on to faith.  They would find her.

**Hope**

Sara was cold and wet and very tired.  More than anything, short of Grissom, she wanted to rest.  She also knew she didn’t dare.  There was no way to know how badly she was injured, and she was afraid that she wouldn’t wake up if she closed her eyes.  She had taken to running through what ever random knowledge she could dredge out the depths of her brain.   
  
She currently was reciting entries from the O.E.D.  Hey, she’d had insomnia for years; the dictionary had been great for getting some sleep.   Hope.  Verb.  To entertain expectation of something desired; to look (mentally) with expectation.  
  
She was currently hoping.  That her team would find her soon.  That she could tell Grissom she loved him again.  That Grissom wouldn’t blame himself if they didn’t find her in time.  That the team would take care of each other if they didn’t find her in time.  That they caught the woman who did this.

She kept hoping because it was all she could do.

**Love**

They had sprung her from the hospital at the first opportunity.  The team knew her well enough to know she wasn’t going to get the prescribed rest there.  And it wasn’t like she didn’t have supervision here at home.  Grissom’s, _their_ townhouse had seen more traffic in the last week than it had in six months.  
Brass brought take out and old movies.  Greg came with silly stories and novelty t-shirts.  Doc Robbins dropped off homemade pie (made by his wife thank God).  Warwick would drop by with odd and interesting books to read and half a dozen custom cds he burned for her.  Catherine came for girl talk and chick flicks, surprisingly enough with Lindsay in tow.  Nick stayed the one night Grissom was called away, understanding her fears of being alone in the dark.  And the flowers were everywhere.  From the lab techs, from the police department, there were even flowers from Hodges and Ecklie.

And there was Grissom.  Grissom who would discuss cases with her to when she needed a distraction.  Grissom who knew when she just needed someone to share the silence with.  Grissom who was there to hold her when the nightmares haunted them both.  Sara wasn’t worried about her recovery; she had everything she needed.


End file.
